


Our Darkest Hour

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [52]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Murder, Sexual Assault, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: When Los Angeles is hit by a wave of power cuts, a serial killer is lured out of hiding to commit murders under the cover of darkness || Series 5 Finale
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 11





	Our Darkest Hour

They should’ve been at home, Piper thought. Emily should have been on her couch, drinking wine and cuddling with Sergio. Derek should have been cheering on the Chicago Cubs at home with a beer. Penelope should have been having dinner with Kevin. Hotch and JJ should have been with their families and Spencer and Piper should have been watching Doctor Who reruns with cheap takeout. Instead, they’d been called in to deal with a home invasion homicide in Los Angeles, something that bothered Emily. It seemed too simplistic for them to be allocated the case. But she wasn’t about to question the Section Chief. “Officers found Gregory Everson, 56, beaten, with a GSW to the head,” JJ reported to the profilers. “His wife Colleen was equally beaten and raped repeatedly.”

“Repeatedly?” Emily asked.

“That's what she reported.”

“Wait, she survived this?”

“He chose to keep her alive,” Hotch told them.

“An intentional witness,” Emily surmised. “Everything but that points to an organized offender, an experienced one.”

“He could be trying to send us a message,” Piper proposed.

“Like what?” Rossi prompted her.

“That he holds power over life and death. Who’d want to stay alive after seeing all this?” Piper said quietly and the room went silent. Spencer slipped a pinkie into hers, squeezing softly, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by the team.

“Did she see the unsub?” Rossi asked eventually.

“She said he was white, with mean eyes and repulsive breath.”

“Rotten inside and out,” he scoffed. “Did he rape her in front of the husband?”

“Yeah,” JJ sighed.

“One home invasion rarely warrants Strauss personally sending us out,” Emily pointed out.

“No, there's more. Ballistics match a double homicide downtown LA, 48 miles away.”

“Where 3 days ago, those 2 women were raped and killed. But last night was in the suburbs.”

“They're afraid of another Night Stalker.” Hotch dismissed them to the jet and Piper murmured to Spencer.

“Who?”

“Richard Ramirez was an American serial killer, serial rapist, and burglar. His highly publicized home invasion crime spree terrorized the residents of the greater Los Angeles area and later the residents of the San Francisco area from June 1984 until August 1985.” Piper nodded before she was pulled back by Emily.

“Hey,” she said through a short laugh. “What’s up?”

“Is everything okay?” Emily met Piper’s gaze deeply, noticing how Piper didn’t meet hers.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Thanks though,” Piper said, smiling weakly before making to follow the rest of the team. Emily watched her retreating frame and Piper tugged her sleeves lower. In the jet, Emily noticed Piper playing with her rings, passively listening to their discussion.

“This guy's way too good at this to have just started,” Derek noted first. “He pulled off hours of torture and a homicide without disturbing the neighbours and robbed the house.”

“That could be a habit,” Hotch suggested. He was seated next to JJ on the couch as Rossi turned his head to gaze past Emily.

“You think he started as a burglar?” JJ asked her boss.

“If it was just about the killing, he wouldn't bother robbing them.”

“Wait, how did he get in last night?” Derek prompted them.

“Mrs Everson said there was a noise outside their door,” JJ supplied. “They were outside of their room a few minutes, when they came back, he was there.”

“He distracted them so he could climb through their bedroom window,” he concluded.

“I'll have Garcia see if that MO was used in any other home invasions,” Spencer announced.

“Well, victimology's all over the map,” Emily continued. “3 murders and he managed to kill men, women, old, young, black, white, Hispanic. That's about as random as it gets.”

“I think that's the point,” Spencer theorised. “All the varying people in his message. He wants them all to fear him.”

“Means he’s got an over-inflated ego,” Piper said, for the first time in the jet, as though she had only just awoken. “Needs to have absolute control over his victims.”

“Which would be why he let Mrs Everson go,” Rossi confirmed.

“Exactly. What greater punishment than making her live after watching Mr Everson die?” Piper’s face was stoic, firmer than her usual energy as she spoke, attempting to give no emotion away.

“He didn’t let anyone go in the first murders, though,” JJ reminded her half-heartedly.

“Could he have multiple signatures?” Emily asked.

“One would have to be the more dominant signature,” Reid supplied. “The only thing connecting both homicides are that they both occurred in darkness and both involved rapes.”

“Well, he’s definitely a psychopath and a sadist,” Piper announced.

“JJ and I will set up at the station. Dave, Bishop and Reid, go visit Mrs Everson at the hospital. Morgan and Prentiss, the LAPD detectives are waiting for you at the Everson house.” Hotch told everyone to get some sleep before they landed. Derek plugged in his headphones, watching the night sky until he fell asleep. JJ stretched out onto the couch and Piper gave up her shoulder for Reid to nap on as she perused a collection of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poetry.

Two detectives closed the door behind them as they entered the Everson residence. The older detective let out a sigh of relief. “You hear that?” Adam asked his partner.

“What?” Spicer looked back at him.

“Exactly. What's wrong with us that we're at peace at a crime scene?”

“Hotter than hell,” Spicer grimaced, looking up the stairs.

“Techs must have turned off the A/C.” Adam used a glove to turn on the air conditioning. “Huh. See? Hippies,” he grumbled.

“What's the matter, more hot flashes, ma'am?” Spicer grinned at his sweating mentor.

“Surprised a hotshot like you doesn't need to cool down,” Adam retorted.

“When are the big guns coming?” Spicer complained.

“What's wrong? You afraid that they'll get all the front pages now?” It was Adam’s turn to grin now.

“Hey. I never asked for that,” Spicer replied as the front door opened. The woman had porcelain skin, offset by rich black hair adorning her jawline. Behind her was another agent, tall and muscled, his skin a deep chestnut.

“Quite the crowd out there,” she exclaimed, and Adam introduced themselves.

“Adam Kurzband, this is Matt Spicer.”

“Emily Prentiss,” she said, shaking his hand. “Derek Morgan.” She indicated to the well-built man behind her.

“Hey, thanks for flying out.”

“So, what have you got?”

“Got our hands full,” Spicer started with a scoff. “Guy's been across the city in a week. Seems completely random.”

“You don’t think it is?” Derek asked.

“We're Robbery-Homicide in Newton division. The first 2 vics were right in the middle of it. The only thing that brought us all the way out here were the bullets.”

“And the assault,” Adam added. “All the victims were raped.”

“DNA?” Emily asked him.

“This guy covers up.” Adam looked weary, Emily noted, each wrinkle sagging with the weight of the violence in the case. 

“The, uh, Eversons were in their bedroom upstairs when the electricity went out,” Matt said, pointing up to the bedroom.

“So, the unsub cut the power,” Derek concluded.

“No. They've got rolling blackouts scheduled,” Adam countered bluntly. “Trying to get through this heatwave without the whole city going dark.”

“So, is that why he came out here?” Spicer asked a question they were all thinking.

“Well, people are afraid of the dark,” Emily mused. “He probably preyed on that.”

“Okay, so the lights go out, and this guy starts banging on the door,” Derek proposed.

“Why give them the heads-up like that? Why not just break-in?” Matt asked him as the other man surveyed the house.

“He probably likes getting their adrenaline going. Makes for a fun fight.”

“Sounds like he got one,” Matt scoffed. “Wife's real shook up. I don't think she's gonna be much help.”

Piper trailed behind Rossi and Spencer who were guided by the nurse to their victim. Spencer glanced behind him every so often to check on her, but her eyes were stormy, clouded over by something familiar and dark. Rossi stopped them outside their room and Spencer gazed over at the blonde woman in the bed. The scene was strangely familiar, from months ago. He could almost remember when a frail woman was lying in a bed like that, head slumped over with bruising all over her face, a seal burned into her arm, deep scars trailing over her legs, with brown locks sticking to her face in sweat as she slept fitfully, restrained to the bed. “Why’s she restrained?” he asked quietly.

“She tried to kill herself,” Piper breathed out before biting her lip as Dave and Spencer looked back at her. “May I?” Rossi nodded, letting Piper take the lead while Rossi and Spencer stood on either side of the foot of the bed. They watched, equally uncomfortable, as Piper spoke gently to the broken woman. “Colleen. I’m Piper, with the FBI. Do you think you’re up for some questions?”

“I already spoke to the police,” the blonde managed.

“I know, I’m sorry. But anything you could tell us can help.” Piper, more than anything, wanted to hug the frail husk of a woman and tell her everything would be okay. But she knew, better than anyone, that nothing would be okay ever again.

“Why didn’t he kill me?” the woman asked her, and she could only speak honestly.

“Leaving you behind gives him power,” she answered hesitantly but truthfully, and the other woman let out a sob. Piper gripped her hand gently, consoling her through her touch. “Colleen, did he talk to you?” The woman simply whimpered softly, remembering flashes of the dreaded night. “We understand if it’s too painful,” Piper whispered to her.

“No, he really didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Piper rubbed a thumb slowly, easing the distraught woman in front of her.

“Greg looked at me...” The woman continued. Colleen hesitated in her words, stumbling over them. “The way he always did. I... We didn't need words. We... He just... Looked at me, and we would know. I tried to be strong, But I...I... Shut my eyes... When the gun went off, and... That's the last thing Greg saw. Now every time I shut my eyes... I see him. How long will that last?” Rossi shared a look with Spencer before he glided over to Piper, settling a hand on her shoulder. Piper looked at her hands, one clasping Colleen’s, the other pressed against her thigh.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “For some people, it’s months, for others it’s years. We are going to do everything we can to find him.” Rossi squeezed; his urge for them to leave insistent. Piper conceded, rising from her seat and sidling past Spencer to the door. Spencer cast one last look at Rossi helplessly before following her out.

Spencer joined JJ in the station, splitting up with Rossi and Piper, as the blonde placed the phone into its receiver. “Where are the others?”

“Piper’s taking a lap to clear her head. Rossi’s with Hotch and Morgan.” He leaned over, perusing the board the detectives had set up for them.

“How’s she doing?” Spencer looked over to JJ, an eyebrow raised in question. “Piper,” she clarified.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “She went through something pretty similar. It’s hard.” JJ nodded, turning her gaze back to the set up.

“It’s incredibly detailed.”

“Yeah. Detective Matt Spicer and his partner are the go-to guys for robbery-homicide, Central Bureau, Newton division, busiest in LA,” Reid supplied before hearing his cell ring as Piper walked in, helmet in hand. She set it on a chair, joining Reid and JJ as Garcia’s voice came brightly through the speakerphone.

“Hey, Garcia, I got JJ and Piper here.”

_“Praise the gods. Los Angeles has a weirdly low rate of home invasion burglaries. I snagged a case in Westchester where a guy violently knocked down the front door, kicked the dog, and took off with the TV.”_

“Breaking down the front door sends a message,” Spencer proposed. “He's trying to intimidate the victims.”

“Kicking the dog suggests either anger, sadism or panic at being caught. He’s definitely a dick for kicking a dog,” Piper said, shaking her head.

_“Yeah, and as horrible as this dog-kicking burglar sounds, I think the guy we're looking for is even more horrible.”_

“Garcia, this unsub's had practice, a lot of it,” Spencer reported. “Maybe not in L.A., but he's definitely done this before.”

_“Word. This is not his first crime party. I seriously can't find a single case in L.A. that equals this level of emotional destruction.”_

“We need to expand the search to all of Southern California. He can be in other cities with a quick ride on the freeways.”

 _“Yeah. Will do,”_ she confirmed.

“Thanks, Garcia,” he said before slipping the cell into his pocket before following Piper’s gaze to the board.

“We're going live on the 11:00 news,” JJ reported. “You think he'll be watching?”

“It's late. He could already be hunting,” Reid said as Piper settled onto the table, withdrawing the file to go over the case.

“So, they hear something outside,” Piper mused. “Go downstairs to check what the noise is. Come back up. The unsub’s waiting for them in the bedroom. Knocks out Gregory with the fire poker. Rapes Colleen. Makes her watch as he…” Her voice trailed off, unable or unwilling to form the words.

“Yeah, it’s practiced, a specifically developed M.O,” Spencer established, turning his gaze back to the visual set-up.

“But he’s probably older too. At least in his late 40s. Any younger would be developing their M.O. He’s too evolved.”

“Leaving a witness behind’s gotta either be sloppy or a power move,” JJ said, oblivious to Piper stiffening behind her.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna start going through potential triggers,” Piper announced, taking a free spot on the whiteboard as JJ ordered takeout for the team. Meanwhile, Emily and Detective Spicer made their way to the rest of the team as JJ heard snippets of their conversation

“Don't get me wrong. It's not like I talk to the universe or anything,” Matt told the raven-haired agent. “I've just always believed that things happen for a reason. It's hard to find the reason for this, though. Utterly meaningless crimes, no obvious motivation. Pure evil.”

“Evil can't be scientifically defined,” Spencer contributed, and Piper turned around with a smile. “It's an illusory moral concept that doesn't exist in nature. Its origins and connotations have been inextricably linked to religion and mythology. This offender has shown no signs of any belief.”

“Besides,” Piper added. “I’ve found that when the reason isn’t obvious, it’s a much deeper motivation linked to a child’s development. That’s Dr Spencer Reid,” she pointed to the lanky doctor waving. “I’m Piper.”

“Matt Spicer.”

“Jennifer Jareau.” The blonde stuck her hand out as the two doctors turned back to their work. “The media's been asking for you.”

“Yeah, well, nobody else around here wants to talk to them. I figure it hasn't hurt me yet.”

“Uh, they'd like an interview for the 11:00 news. Can we go over a few points?”

“Absolutely,” Matt said, nodding. Emily watched as JJ took Matt to another room before glancing over to Derek on the other side of a glass wall with Hotch and Rossi. Their discussion was hard to read and Emily started surveying the board instead.

Meanwhile Derek focused on the two murdered women plastered over the cork board.

“The first 2 victims earlier this week?”

“Downtown. Killed about 2 am.” Adam told him, taking a long sip of his coffee as Morgan pulled a pin out of a picture, handing it to Rossi. “We found them when the sun came up.”

“Not at noon?” Derek asked and Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“I dragged Spicer over there about 6 am.”

“Both these clocks are stopped at 12:00,” Rossi pointed out.

“Was there a blackout?” Hotch asked.

“They started last night,” Adam said, shaking his head.

“So, then he cut their power,” Rossi rationalised.

“But he let the city do it last night,” Hotch said before moving over into the other room, followed swiftly by Morgan, Rossi and Adam. “You have anything?” Piper turned around; a marker gripped in her hand.

“Maybe. I’ve been thinking about what Reid said on the jet, about the signatures. I’d wager that our unsub has had some sort of experience with rape, probably in an early developmental stage.”

“Garcia could track down child rape victims,” Morgan offered and Hotch nodded.

“We need a fresh start. Let’s get back, start with fresh eyes tomorrow morning.” Spencer nodded and glanced over at Piper who stared at the board. Sighing, he rose, leaving in tow with Morgan. JJ was keeping an eye on the news and the rest of the team started to grab their things and filter out. Piper tapped a marker on her chin, surveying the board. Rossi beckoned Hotch to the car but he’d caught sight of the brunette still perched on a table. “Gimme a minute.” He gripped his briefcase, making his way to the other room.

“I know what you’re gonna say and I’m fine.”

“I don’t care about that.” Piper turned her head, an eyebrow raised. “I gave you an order. You haven’t obeyed it.”

“Hotch, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Hotel. Sleep. Now. C’mon.” Piper sighed, pushing herself off the table.

“I forgot how annoying fathers are,” Piper grumbled.

“Damn right. Rossi’s waiting in the car.”

“You mean Mom?”

“Bishop!” Hotch warned and Piper grinned ruefully at Hotch, shouldering her messenger bag. He tossed her the helmet. “That’s not an LAPD helmet.” Piper turned over the dark helmet.

“No, it is not.” Hotch raised an eyebrow as they walked out of the precinct. “I miss my bike, okay. The helmet keeps me safe. Also means I don’t have to worry about lice.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’d bring your bike to cases if you could?”

“It’s a gut feeling and it’s right.” Piper smiled at him and Hotch couldn’t stop himself doing the same as she opened the door for him. His was sadder though, like a father seeing his child grow up suddenly.

“I’m proud of you. You know that don’t you?” They stood in the night breeze, lit by the station lights. Piper laughed uneasily.

“Kay, Hotch, I know I’ve called you dad because I have seriously undealt-with daddy issues, but you don’t have to—”

“I mean it, Piper. Everything you’ve gone through, you’ve shouldered it. And I’m proud of you.” Piper bit her lip.

“Thank you, Hotch. It, uh, it means a lot.” Piper nodded rapidly and a loud honk came from behind them. “And Mom’s getting impatient.” Hotch snorted softly.

“10 am, Bishop. Get some sleep.” Piper grinned as she settled on the bike, watching Hotch leave as she pulled on her helmet.

Piper awoke to the smell of waffles as Spencer emerged from the shower. “You do remember that there’s a perfectly good hotel room next door?” Piper said, rubbing at her eyes.

“True, but then you wouldn’t wake up to the smell of waffles.” Spencer smirked.

“Thank god for room service,” Piper murmured.

“Actually, you should thank Leonard Schultze,” Spencer corrected as Piper lifted herself off the bed. “His hotel, the Waldorf Astoria, was the first to introduced room service as well as introducing other advancements into the industry such as reservations at the restaurant and full electrical wiring.”

“Good. One less thing I can thank God for,” Piper smiled, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s cheek. Spencer snorted softly, moving both breakfast dishes and drinks to the table.

“Hey, why don’t you like orange juice?”

“It tastes yucky.”

“You sound like Henry,” he grumbled. “Orange juice is high in many nutrients, including vitamin C, folate, and potassium. Not to mention it’s high in antioxidants.”

“And it tastes yucky,” Piper added, emerging from the bathroom. Her grey top stretched across her forearms, pulled over her scar and tucked into checkered pants. “I love you, but I don’t love OJ.” She settled into a chair, ready to tuck in when both their cells buzzed.

“We’ve got another homicide,” Spencer sighed, and Piper looked at her own text.

“Hotch wants me to talk to the kid with Morgan and Spicer.” Piper gazed wistfully at her waffles. Making a decision, she managed the cut the waffle in half, pressing it together to make a sandwich. “10 am, my ass,” she grumbled before taking a large bite into the warm waffle sandwich. Licking her fingers, she grabbed the helmet at the foot of her bed and pressed a kiss to Spencer.

“I’ll be at the precinct if you need me.”

“I’ll always need you,” she shot back, grinning as she left. Spencer sighed, gazing at the remnants of what was supposed to be a romantic breakfast.

Meanwhile, Rossi and Emily ducked their heads through yellow tape, conscious of Hotch and JJ dealing with the media lined up outside the Danzi residence. Adam greeted them at the door and Rossi followed Emily up the stairs into the offending bedroom. A second door opened, and the salty stench of blood greeted them next, unravelled bedsheets and dried, dripping blood staining the once pristine bedroom walls. ‘Hello Ther’ was misspelled in dripping red blood, a flowery quilt scattered on the bed as Emily pulled on her gloves. Annie Danzi was only 30, with half her life in front of her, a single mom, her child the living reminder of her. The power was out that night from 10pm to 1am that morning. “He left a message this time,” Rossi pointed out. “First time for everything.”

“You think it’s the welcome wagon?” Emily asked him.

“Who knows?”

“At least he's telling us more with each crime scene.” Emily sighed, pointing to the message. “Uneducated.”

“Made the kid watch. Sadistic.”

“Trashes the place even though there's not that much to steal. Angry.”

“Chooses to hunt and kill in the dark. Doesn't want to be seen. Why?” David turned to Emily.

“Maybe he's ashamed of something,” Emily proposed.

“Well, he didn't have to knock those over.” Rossi picked up a photo frame from the floor. “He doesn't want any eyes on him.”

“Except the kid,” Adam pointed out. “Didn't want him to miss a thing.”

\--

Matt stood, his back against the wall as Piper sat with the kid, Morgan flanking her left. “Hey, kiddo. What’s that you got?”

“It’s a monster, isn’t it?” Piper’s eyes flicked up to the detective, then shared a look with Morgan. Derek placed his sunglasses in his pocket. “He’s gonna protect you, right?” Piper sighed, rubbing her face as Derek moved the detective outside.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Carter.”

“Carter, you think you can help us catch this guy?”

“Isn’t that your job?” The kid looked at Piper from under his shaggy blond hair. “Weren’t you meant to protect her?”

“Yeah, Carter. It was, and I’m really sorry I couldn’t protect her. But I want to find this guy. You could make it easier for me to do that, kid.”

“He moved me to the closet. And my mom told me to close my eyes.”

“Okay, Carter. I know what I’m gonna ask you is gonna be really painful. So, you only answer if you’re up for it, you hear me?” The blond nodded. “Did he ever talk to you? Or your mom? Did he say anything?” Carter thought, casting his mind back as far as he could.

“I…I don’t think so. When he left, I just went back under the bed. I didn't want to leave her.”

“It’s okay, Carter. You were scared, honey. You’re so brave.”

“You’ll find him?”

“I won’t leave till I do,” Piper promised. “Listen, do you have, like, a really cool backpack you could throw some things in to take over to your cousin's house?” The kid nodded before running upstairs with the monster and Piper moved to find Derek and Matt. Derek raised an eyebrow at Piper but she just shook her head. “He didn’t see anything.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m gonna head back to the precinct.”

“Yeah, we’ll drop the kid off.” Matt moved back into the Danzi house and Derek made to follow. Piper settled onto her bike, pulling her helmet on before making her way back. From his seat, Spencer watched as Piper shook out her hair from the helmet, hooking it onto a chair before resuming her seat.

“Everything okay?” Piper nodded quickly.

“Kid didn’t see anything. Unsub forced him into the closet, tried to make him watch.” She sighed, rubbing her face with both hands, her silver rings glinting under the precinct light. “You have anything?”

“Emily said the message was misspelled, so he isn’t educated.” Piper sighed and started to pace.

“Okay, so he’s an opportunistic offender, uneducated, sadistic, targets families—”

“But the first crime doesn’t fit the pattern. He killed two women in a well-lit area.”

“Unless that was the first message. Maybe he wants us to find him.”

“He killed the women to attract attention.” Piper nodded, continuing her pacing. “If he’s uneducated, he probably doesn’t have a job either.”

“We know he needs to kill in the dark. Why?”

“Intimacy issues. We know sexual assault must have been a factor in his developmental period, probably early adolescence.”

“So, he’s probably ashamed of his physique. Turns photos away from him too.”

“He's obviously self-conscious about something.”

“Like what?” Piper glanced over at him, his boyish hair shadowing his eyes, his sleeves folded up to his elbows.

“It could be like a physical deformity.”

“Um.” She tapped her foot, forcing herself to focus on something other than Spencer’s forearms. “It could be what led to a violent schizoid personality. But in all probability, he was socially isolated as a kid.”

“Okay, so, how do we find him?” She ran a hand through her hair, untangling her locks. Spencer pulled his eyes from her bit lip, focusing on her eyes instead.

“He needs his ego boosted. Every time he kills, he’s on a high.”

“It’s gonna be practically impossible to reign in the media on this.”

“Yeah, it’s a free-for-all buffet for them. How far back did Penelope look for his signature?”

“She’s still looking.” Piper nodded, patting her pockets to look for a clip when Spencer tossed her one. As she pulled her hair back, Spencer watched her adoringly, feeling a smile warm his face.

“Something wrong?” Spencer shook his head.

“I just love you.” Piper blushed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“What have we said about PDA in the office?” Piper chuckled at Rossi’s voice wafting in from behind her. “C’mon. We’re delivering the profile now.”

The team lined up in front of the small army of detectives and uniformed officers. They ran through everything they knew about their unsub thus far. Destroying Carter’s innocence and childhood was reflective of the unsub’s childhood, one where sexual assault and a lack of intimacy held a prominent role, as Piper and Rossi summed up. The rolling blackouts were what attracted the unsub to LA, Hotch reported, suggesting he was an opportunistic offender. Emily discussed his intimacy issues, to the degree that he even turns away photographs away from him, leading to Spencer establishing that the unsub has a violent schizoid personality which could have resulted from his insecurities, whether real or perceived. Meanwhile, Derek watched as Matt dropped off Carter at his cousin’s place.

“What if he comes back?” Carter asked the young detective, a vulnerable voice catching in his throat. Matt knelt down to meet Carter’s eyes, feeling Derek’s gaze pierce his back.

“He won't. He can't hurt you again, okay?”

“How do you know? You didn't find him.”

“You're right. But I will.”

“She should have known better.”

“Who? Your mom?”

“She tried to fight him, but he had a gun. Why did she do that?”

“Well, she needed to protect you, Carter. The man who did this, he's very bad, okay? I'm going to find him. I promise.” The detective straightened as Carter moved up the steps to his aunt and cousins and waved before turning away to join Derek.

“Did you tell her that we're gonna need to talk to Carter again tomorrow?” Derek asked, worried about the man in front of him.

“He won't remember anything,” Matt dismissed, moving to his side of the car.

“We have psychological markers, things that could help him out.”

“You want to make him relive it?”

“If it will help us catch this guy, yes,” Derek answered candidly. It wasn’t enjoyable, and he didn’t particularly want to do this to the kid. But catching the guy was the highest priority.

“I mean, you saw him. He feels helpless, weak. There's nothing he could have done about it, but he's gonna keep blaming himself,” Matt countered.

“You know, Carter didn't reveal that much. How come you know all this?”

“'Cause when I was a kid, I lost my parents.”

“How?”

“Drunk driver.”

“And you were in the car?”

“No,” he answered.

“You seem to have some insight, as if you witnessed it,” Derek prodded.

“Maybe because I pictured it a thousand times,” Matt snapped, tearing open the car door and slipping inside. Morgan followed, settling down in front of the wheel. He sat silently until Matt sighed. “My parents... They, uh, they were racing home 'cause I was sick. You know, if they hadn't left right then, they would have missed that intersection, and there wouldn't have been a red light.”

“I lost my father...” Derek confessed. “When I was 9 years old. He was shot and killed right in front of me. There was nothing I could do. So, I choose to look at it like this... We all have people in our lives. Some of them are good. Some of them are bad. But they shape us, Detective. That's why you have that badge. That's why the two of us are sitting in this car right now.” Matt inhaled, absorbing Derek’s words. Morgan started the engine and turned onto the asphalt to head back to the station. By the time they arrived, the team had gathered around the table, waiting for Garcia to drop a knowledge bomb on them. Derek and Matt took their positions, Mat flanking Adam and Derek by Emily’s side.

 _“Okay, everybody needs to sit down 'cause I'm about to rock your world, and not in a way I like to do it,”_ Garcia started from the speaker. _“I have scoured and searched, and you were totally right. This unsub has been doing it forever. There is nowhere he hasn't been in the last 26 years. Honestly. Every single state. Well, 48 continental. My point... He is the worst I've ever seen, and we have all seen some things.”_

“How’d you pull that one off?” Piper asked smiling.

_“Everything you said. He's drawn to the dark. He shows up during a blackout, He robs, he kills, he leaves a witness.”_

“How's he getting away with this?” Adam asked.

_“He never hits the same city twice.”_

“Except Los Angeles,” Morgan amended.

_“I'm sending everything your way, and you better load up that printer, 'cause it looks like he started in southern California way back in the summer of 1984.”_

“Thank god the press hasn't connected this,” JJ sighed.

“The Summer Olympics were in Los Angeles that year,” Derek noted.

“Yeah, the Soviet Union protested it,” Piper scoffed under her breath.

“So was Richard Ramirez,” Adam added, oblivious to the remark. “That's the year he started.”

“Well, he never left. Stayed in LA for a few years.”

 _“It appears our unsub started that summer during a blackout in San Diego. From there, he went to Orange County. After that, he ended up in Los Angeles and then worked his way up the coast.”_ The team slipped into their seats, mulling over the new details. Piper raised a hand to run through her hair, eyebrows knotted. It was growing too long.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked.

“The two victims from earlier this week. They don’t fit the victimology. Why kill them?”

“That’s right,” Emily voiced. “No witnesses, no blackouts, why them?”

“He’s been killing for 26 years,” Rossi proposed wryly. “Maybe he wanted to change it up.” Piper snorted derisively.

“Or he wanted our attention,” Derek suggested.

“Well, he either has a mobile job or he’s unemployed,” Hotch thought aloud.

“He’s hit 48 continental states. It means he’s on the road,” Emily added.

“Could be living in a mobile home, like an RV or a caravan,” Piper followed along. “It’s not likely he owns property, especially if he’s uneducated.”

“Probably started in his late 20s, early 30s,” Rossi added. “He’s gotta be in his 50s now.”

“Yeah, but even in ’84, his MO was practiced,” Spencer countered. “He had to have had his first victim before then.”

“Garcia would’ve found it,” Derek countered.

“Not if he was a juvenile offender,” Piper said slowly. “Remember, sexual assault was a pretty defining moment in his developmental period.”

“Early adolescence,” Spencer recalled. “What if it was vengeance?”

“Would’ve given him the same high,” Emily theorised.

“If he was caught, gives us that time lapse too,” Derek said.

“Juvie would explain the lack of education,” Hotch agreed and Piper nodded.

“And he’d have been released when he turned 18, his records expunged.”

“I’m sure Garcia could find them for us,” Derek smirked, pulling out his cell.

“Sending us all to prison in the process,” Spencer scoffed, and Piper smiled as Derek dialled Penelope. Their good humour didn’t last long though, as Matt and Adam were called away by a uniformed officer, alerting them to another strike. Emily moved away to the printer while Piper and Spencer made space for a bigger map. Rossi tossed them a box of pins and together, the team mapped out the Prince of Darkness’s kills. Hotch left to call the mayor, asking him to cancel the blackouts while JJ started calling press correspondents about the break in the case to stave off further questions.

“We’re talking 200 houses in the last 26 years,” Emily said, crossing her arms as she faced Hotch. Piper’s gaze was fixed on the victim log.

“When he started in San Diego, it was all about the robberies,” Spencer added.

“By the time he got to Orange County, he robbed and assaulted his victims. First murder was in Long Beach, and he left a witness,” Derek continued, and Rossi leaned back in his chair.

“He got away with it for 26 years. Why did he come back?” Hotch turned his gaze to Piper, hoping she could provide some insight.

“I don’t know. He might be trying to come full circle, so to speak,” Piper said, her forehead wrinkled. “Might be some kind of closure. But something happened recently that drew him back, something to do with his identity and his past.” By the time Matt and Adam arrived, the team scoured through each crime to find a pattern, some behavioural tell that would give him away.

“We need to look into how he started, might give up something.” Spencer reached a hand to take Piper’s outstretched file. “Home invasion, husband shot, wife left alive.”

“Sounds familiar,” Rossi sighed. “What’s the next one?”

“After Long Beach, he went to Santa Monica. Wait a minute,” Derek looked up from his file to Matt. “Spicer, do you have family out there?”

“Yeah, practically grew up there.”

“We’ve got a home invasion robbery, double homicide. Joe and Sylvia Spicer were killed,” Derek read aloud, and shock registered on Matt’s face. Hotch looked between his agent and the detective.

“Those are my parents. That doesn’t make any sense.” Derek shrugged, simply passing over the file to suffice. “They died in a car accident. A drunk driver.”

“Who told you that?” Adam asked his partner gently.

“My grandparents. I remember my grandfather waking me up. I was sick the night they died. I had a fever. How would I not remember that happening to them?”

“Maybe your grandparents never told you, Matt. They were trying to protect you.”

“They lied?”

“You were the first child he left alive,” Emily thought aloud. “You've been all over the news. This guy knows who you are.”

“This is personal,” Piper realised, straightening in her chair.

“No, this is crazy,” Spicer protested.

“Look, when Carter said that the unsub made him watch from the closet, you flinched,” Derek explained.

“And you didn't?” Matt wrinkled his forehead, gesturing with his hands vigorously.

“This guy is taunting you. He left a young boy alive, and now a baby. He wants you to know it's him.”

“How could I not know?” Matt practically whispered the question and Emily glanced between the detective and former cop.

“You did. Deep down. But you went through a major trauma as a kid. You believed the story because it was easier.”

“And now what? You want to make me remember what really happened? I mean, come on, it was 26 years ago,” he exclaimed. “What good is that gonna do?”

“It's your call.” Piper watched uneasily as Matt nodded, letting Derek guide him to another room. The tension within the group was palpable, easy to slice through with a knife as the unit watched their conversation through the glass. JJ and Reid volunteered for a coffee run and Piper felt Spencer squeeze her shoulder as he walked past.

Meanwhile, Matt settled into a chair in front of Derek. “Is this, you know, like, hypnosis or something?”

“No,” Derek chuckled wryly. “I'm just gonna try and trigger some memories by walking you through what happened that night.”

“All right. Should I, uh, close my eyes or...”

“If you want. I just want you to try and relax.”

“Okay.” Matt shifted comfortably in his seat, letting his eyelids drape over his eyes, letting Derek’s voice take over his mind.

“Here we go. It was July. And it was hot. Were the windows open?” His voice was smooth and husky, running low like honey dripping over waffles.

“Yeah. And, uh, there was a breeze.”

“Good. Good. That's really good,” he praised. “What do you hear?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah, my grandfather woke me up, and he told me about the accident—”

“Woah, slow down,” Derek said abruptly. “Stay with me. There was a breeze. What did you smell?”

“Seriously?” Matt asked without opening his eyes.

“Just try. What did you smell?”

“What did I smell?” the detective repeated. “Um... I don't know. Uh... I smelled the ocean. My mother’s perfume. That’s weird.”

“What?”

“I smell cigarettes.”

“Your grandfather smoked?”

“Never,” Matt said confusedly.

“Come on, think,” Derek urged. “Who was it?” Spicer continued to mull the scene over and over in his head.

“Hello there,” he murmured. “He said, ‘hello there’.”

“That was his first message. What's he doing?”

“He's... He's dragging me. I hear my baby sister crying. I hear my daddy. He's...he's yelling. He killed my dad. It's too dark. She's begging him. I can't...” Matt finally opened his eyes, meeting Derek’s amber ones. “I couldn't see, man. I just... I'm sorry.”

“No, that's enough. You did enough. You're good.” Derek patted him on the shoulder before moving off his seat on the table to join the others. Piper raised an eyebrow as the duo walked back in, Derek assuming his position in front of the team while Matt stayed by his partner’s side. Spencer and JJ returned with hot mugs of coffee before lining up with the others.

“So, why’s he doing this?” Matt started, clearing his throat.

“He leaves behind a survivor, so they’ll never forget him,” Spencer answered next to Piper.

“It’s an assertion of his own power and control. It’s not so much about controlling who dies as much as it is about who lives, suggesting he didn’t have much power growing up,” Piper interrupted.

“But with you, it goes beyond that.”

“He believes he turned you into the city’s hero,” Emily continued.

“If your parents weren't killed, you might not have become a detective,” Rossi explained.

“Yeah, but how would he know that?” Spicer asked. “It's not like he stayed in LA. He's been all over the country.”

“The press has talked about your history. He's not a part of it,” JJ countered as Rossi took a sip of his coffee.

“And he wants that recognition,” Derek added. “He wants everyone to know what he's done to you.” Matt turned to Derek to ask how the unsub would do that, only to be asked by Hotch about the picture on his desk. The detective turned to see his framed picture of his daughter and him. He felt his stomach drop at Hotch’s implication, reaching for his phone.

“She’s with my sister.” The team burst into action, dividing into pairs as Hotch and Emily took one car, Spencer and Rossi took another while Piper grabbed her helmet to take the bike. But they underestimated LA traffic without the blackouts in place. Morgan followed Detective Spicer to the main bedroom, only to find the house empty with a newspaper folded up where his daughter should have been. As Morgan edged closer, the full article was in view, a biography on the detective beside him who was quickly losing hope. They doubled back to the SUV waiting outside as Piper pulled up.

“Nothing?”

“Ellie’s gone,” the detective rasped. “So’s my sister.”

“Car’s still here,” Derek pointed out.

“He cut the power,” Piper said, pointing to the side of the house.

“Must have taken them somewhere,” Morgan said.

“We should check my sister’s place,” Matt suggested, moving to his side of the car.

“I don’t think so,” she piped up. “This guy came back to LA for you. He wants to go out with a bang. He’s gonna need a place with history.”

“She’s right,” Derek agreed. “He probably took them to Santa Monica to your old house.”

“Go ahead, I’ll follow you from behind.”

“We should send Emily to your sister’s place just in case.” Piper nodded, watching Derek and Matt get into their car and pulling on her helmet before following their car. But before she knew it, darkness had consumed the city. Derek and Matt managed to pull ahead off the traffic, using sideroads and alleyways. Piper just managed to stay on their tail, weaving between cars and curses before losing them on the 5th left turn. Eventually, she had to pull up and check the address on her GPS. She settled it on her dash, keeping an eye on the device and the corresponding road.

Meanwhile, Matt tore out of the vehicle, barely waiting for it to stop as he sprinted for the house. Derek yelled out, that they should wait for backup, but it was too late. Spicer had already taken the back and Derek cursed, surging to take the front door. He kept his gun up, making his way to the door with bated breath. The night was hot, and shadows loomed on every corner. The door had been left ajar and Derek paused to listen and look behind him, hoping to see Piper’s usually hasty entry, but seeing an empty street. Sighing, he pushed past the door, his torch on, lighting up a pale body on the floor, wet blood tainting the ivory forehead in the darkness. Silently, Derek placed two fingers to the man’s neck, only to feel warm, still skin. He glanced back out the door, without an agent in sight, and turned back. He probed deeper through the house, taking the small bedroom, then the kitchen, only to catch sight of a closed door. Moonlight shone through the window as he edged towards the door. He stretched out a hand, pushing the door aside instead of kicking it like his usual habit, revealing two bound and gagged women, one younger than the other. His sister, Morgan noted, and the other his daughter. He heard nothing else and stepped forward when he felt a sharp blow under his chin.

As Piper attempted to continue moving past the deep traffic on the freeway, Matt made his way past the rooms, making a beeline for the main bedroom. The furniture and walls regurgitated memories in his mind of an ancient murder; the day his sister and he became orphans. Matt continued, pushing past the door, catching the sight of the dark agent bound on the floor, his daughter’s neck wrapped in the unsub’s elbow. His sister was bound in duct tape on the bed, bloody and bruised. “Drop it,” he ordered the unsub, who simply told him to go first. He faintly heard Derek’s protests, but Ellie’s begging was louder, despite not reaching the same decibels as the federal agent. A battle was feuding in Matt Spicer’s body, his head battling his heart, but his daughter’s wellbeing overrode every instinct he had as a cop. The father inside wrestled the cope to the ground as Morgan watched Detective Spicer drop his pistol to the ground. It clattered and Morgan groaned as the grimy unsub released young Ellie who ran to her aunt on the bed.

“On your knees,” the unsub wheezed, and Matt obliged as Morgan watched, a pain flaring in his ribs. No sound of a bike had erupted yet and the cell service had died. They were alone, a former cop spitting blood from his teeth, a detective grazing his knees, a soiled and grubby unsub with a revolver in his hand, a young girl who wasn’t even a teenager yet, and a woman who had lost her parents when she was but a baby. “Your sister grew up real pretty,” he said, his voice grotty and his teeth rotting. “Last time I saw her, she was just an itty-bitty thing. Not as good as your mom, though. She squirms too much.”

“Go to hell,” Kristin Spicer spat, and the unsub turned to face her, his head tilting in curiosity. Matt took the distraction as an opportunity, ignoring the gun a few feet away, charging at him instead. It was of no use, and Morgan saw the detective flung back. Spicer was curled up on the floor, Morgan yelling out his name.

“Get up,” the unsub howled, and Matt slowly rose back to his knees. His gun was still a couple of feet away and he breathed hard. “You think they’ll remember me now?” he growled.

“You’ve destroyed me, is that what you want to hear?”

“Well, it’s better,” the unsub admitted, an air of genuine contemplation in his voice. Matt met Derek’s fixed gaze, blood glinting in the corner of the detective’s eye.

“Promise me she’ll be okay, Morgan,” he pleaded and Morgan’s stare was hard, unrelenting, a bruise forming next to his right eye. The unsub turned to him unpassionately.

“Go ahead,” he sneered. “Promise him.” Derek just shook his head.

“Do it, promise him,” Kirstin yelled from the bed.

“Promise me, Morgan,” Matt pleaded.

“Okay,” Derek relented. There was no sign of any backup, and any plan he could come with was restricted like the duct tape binding his hands to the bedpost. “Okay,” he said, louder. “I promise.” The unsub lowered his gun to Matt’s chest, metal pressing against fabric.

“I love you, Ellie,” Matt confessed and the unsub met Derek’s gaze intentionally before firing a single shot dead into Matt’s chest. Ellie and Kristin’s sobs rang out around the house and Derek screamed only to be whipped in the face with the revolver. Both Derek and Matt fell over and there was still no sound of tires or sirens. Only Kristin watched as the unsub tore Ellie away from the aunt, dragging the young girl past Derek who had started to right himself up. He stopped outside the doorway as the dark, tall agent fixed his eyes on him.

“I don’t usually take much to kids,” he confessed to Derek before burying his nose into Ellie’s hair, taking a good, long sniff. Derek bared his teeth in disgust as the unsub exhaled with a smile. “This one’s just special.”

“We will find you, you sick son of a bitch,” Derek swore as the screech of a motorcycle ran outside.

“Is that another promise?” he sneered, leaving as Ellie’s sobs penetrated the dark night. Derek watched hopelessly as the unsub and the young girl retreated into the night, closing his eyes and letting the darkness consume him.

Piper pulled to a stop outside the lawn, tearing the helmet off as she caught sight a large figure carrying a smaller figure, running from the house. She pulled a leg off the bike giving chase as she unholstered the gun, only to see them bundle into an RV and speed off into the night. She fired 4 rounds at the vehicle, puncturing nothing, the bullets either ricocheting off the bumper or hitting air. The power grid had become overwhelmed in the LA heat and she couldn’t read the plates. She clasped a hand to her forehead as the vehicle turned onto another street. Panicking, she sprinted over to the house, screaming out Derek’s name. A muffled ‘In here’ echoed through the house and Piper stepped over the body on the threshold and into the main bedroom, catching sight of the dead detective and her friend reeling on the floor. She cried out his name, dropping the gun and reaching to her ankle for her switchblade. She ripped through the tape binding his hands, passing the knife to him, before pulling out another to release Kristin’s bonds. Finally, Piper moved back to the detective, trying to feel for a pulse.

“Point blank to the chest. He’s gone, Pipes.” Derek’s voice was hoarse, and Piper moved over to check on his injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Did you get him?”

“Just the sight of him and a mobile unit. It’s an RV, probably white underneath all the grim. I’ve got a partial plate in my head.” Derek groaned. “I need to check if you have a concussion. What’s your name?”

“Piper,” he tried to protest, only to see Piper’s stern expression. “Derek Morgan.”

“Okay, and how many fingers?” Piper held up her hand and Derek muttered the right number. Finally, Piper pulled out a pen torch from her pocket, lighting up both eyes. “You’re good. I’m gonna lift you up in 3, 2, 1.” Derek lifted off the ground, sitting on the mattress and Piper did the same with Kristin. She’d gone into procedural mode, ticking off things one after the other, cleaning up wounds, offering glasses of water, knowing the cell service was down. Derek found himself clutching an ice pack to his head as Piper wiped off Kristin’s blood with a damp towel. Eventually, they heard the sound of tires and ambulance sirens and Derek watched as Piper helped Kristin out to the ambulance. Rossi and Spencer moved over to Piper’s side, starting to question her as Hotch and Emily followed behind them. Piper pulled them aside as police officers swarmed the building. “I tried to get here as fast as I could. Unsub beat and sexually assaulted Kristin, then assaulted Derek, then shot Spicer. He took Ellie with him. There’s another guy dead on the threshold, probably the owner of the house.” Emily volunteered to accompany Kristin to the ambulance and Hotch nodded before heading in with the others. Spencer stopped her by the door.

“How’s Derek?”

“He’s got a cut on his head, he’s gonna need stitches.”

“No, I mean, how’s he doing?” Piper hung her head, looking back as another detective briefed the press and JJ and Adam exited a vehicle.

“Not good.” She rubbed her arm gently. “He feels pretty guilty about it. Spicer made him promise Ellie would be okay.” Piper sighed.

“And you?” Spencer’s voice was tender, filled with concern.

“I appreciate the concern, Spence, but we need to figure this out now.” Spencer inhaled as JJ approached them from a distance.

“Got it.”

“The local bureau office found us these satellite phones. It should bypass any outage problems on the ground.”

“We’ve got another problem,” Adam started.

“Everyone’s inside,” Piper interrupted, leading the two inside. JJ caught sight of a bruised Derek and murmured his name sympathetically.

“I'm all right,” Derek dismissed her concern quickly.

“You don't look all right,” Reid countered.

“Reid, drop it,” Derek warned gruffly, and Piper reached over to comfort Spencer as he apologised quickly.

“Any word on Ellie?” JJ asked but Derek just glared at her before sidling past. The blonde glanced past to the rest of the team. “I was just—”

“It’s not you,” Hotch assured neutrally before following Derek outside. Ignoring it, JJ informed the remnants of the unit that another couple were murdered a few blocks away and a team was working on it. Meanwhile, Derek clutched the satellite phone, dialling in a familiar number.

 _“How’s my baby boy doing?”_ Penelope’s voice bled with concern.

“Listen, I need you to run something for me.”

_“You really had us worried. And by "us, " I mean me. I didn't know where you were—”_

“Now, Garcia,” he interrupted her, and Penelope bit her tongue. “All right, I'm looking for an old RV. Piper caught a partial plate – California, Michael-David-3. That’s all she got. Call me back when you get a bite.” Grumbling, he shut the phone and pocketed it, turning to see Hotch’s stern expression behind him. Piper had learnt more than just fighting skills from the boss. “You know, she really needs to be more professional sometimes.”

“She gets the job done every time,” Hotch countered.

“I told him, Hotch,” he complained, keeping his gaze fixed on the house. “I told him that we should wait for backup, but he wouldn't listen to me. We split up and he headed around back before I could stop him.”

“Morgan, sometimes when it comes to family, common sense and procedure go out the window. We do the best we can.”

“This unsub raped the aunt and then beat her for no reason. She didn't resist, man, and he still pistol-whipped her until her ribs were crushed. He killed Spicer while he was on his knees. He was unarmed. This guy's a pure psychopath. I want this guy.”

“We'll get him.”

“Well, we better do it fast. Taking Ellie was like a game to him. The sick bastard thought it was funny. He's gonna get pissed off at her, man. She's nothing but a little girl. She's gonna show him fear. And when she does... He's gonna kill her.” Hotch kept his gaze fixed on him until Piper sprinted down from the house.

“Got a call from Prentiss. More details about the unsub,” she grimaced. “He listens to the radio, a lot. Which means we’ve got a problem.” Hotch nodded and followed Piper up to the house again with Derek in tow, to meet JJ, Rossi, Reid and Adam standing together outside the house.

“Media’s releasing the story that unsub’s got a filthy white RV with an 8-year-old girl as a hostage,” JJ reported, looking up from her notepad.

“If he hears this, we’re in trouble,” Rossi warned. Hotch ordered them to reconvene at the precinct and they dispersed to their various vehicles before they made their way to the precinct. Derek left his car, deciding to join Hotch’s ride to the precinct and Piper tossed one last look to the house before pulling on her helmet and following the team. Eventually, she drew to a stop as Hotch exited his SUV. Piper pulled off her helmet, tucking it under her arm as she swung a leg over the bike while two more cars pulled into the lot. Hotch led the agents and detective to the main room as he started recapping the profile.

“All right, what we have is an unsub in complete behavioural chaos.”

“Meaning?” Adam prompted.

“Serial offenders, especially long-term, successful ones, don't just suddenly change what they do or how they do it,” Rossi said, a snippet of one of his rehearsed speeches.

“Going after a high-risk target like a police detective and then all of a sudden abducting a child is fairly unheard of,” Spencer added as Piper flanked his right, Derek trailing in the background.

“Fairly?” Adam challenged.

“Sometimes they devolve as they know we're getting closer to them and their time's running out,” Hotch answered neutrally.

“He’s panicking,” Piper explained. “He knows we’re after him so he’s likely to change his MO and hopefully slip up. He’ll kill to try and get away, not like before.”

“But this unsub doesn't appear to be devolving,” Derek countered, and Piper raised an eyebrow at his bitter tone. “Devolution generally means loss of control. They find it harder and harder to keep the outside world from noticing them.”

“I think he's becoming more controlled,” Spencer defended calmly. “He spent a lifetime murdering seemingly random victims, then out of nowhere sought out Spicer, recreated his parents' murder, lured him into a trap, killed him and took his daughter. The behavioural spectrum is alarmingly different.” Spencer licked his lips as Derek’s satellite phone rang.

“Yeah, Garcia,” Derek grumbled.

_“Hi. I want to have better news, mon ami, but there are zero RVs in the state of California with M-D-3 in that order on the plate. I'm sorry.”_

“Sorry isn’t helping anybody,” he barked, and JJ flinched in her seat. “I need results.” Rossi and Hotch kept an examining gaze on Derek and Spencer found him unrecognisable in his traumatic state. Piper remained unsurprised. He’d already snapped at the paramedic who fixed up his cut and JJ before. But Hotch remained silent as Emily walked in behind them. “Garcia got nothing on the partial plate, Bishop. What the hell did you see out there?” Piper narrowed her eyes.

“It was dark outside, maybe I misread it.”

“You misread it?” he exclaimed, and Piper backed up as Emily moved next to her. “How the hell are we supposed to find this guy?”

“We can contact him,” Emily said brightly. “He listens to the radio incessantly. Kristin even said he’s stop beating her if the radio mentioned the Prince of Darkness.”

“Makes sense for a narcissist,” Rossi rationalised, and Piper relaxed in her stance.

“So, he knows what we know,” Derek sighed.

“That might not be a bad thing. We could control his actions, predict his behaviour better,” Piper said, settling into her comfort zone of behavioural stimuli and reactions. She sidled past them, finding a clear part of the whiteboard. “His initial reaction is panic, considering he’s an organised psychopath, he’s probably thinking of a tactical retreat.”

“I’ll get you a copy of the radio broadcast,” JJ announced, getting up to leave.

“He could dump the RV,” she murmured, scribbling on the board.

“Or kill—” Spencer started but stopped abruptly, catching Derek’s gaze.

“No, he kept Derek and Kristin alive,” Piper murmured. “Besides, I shot at his car, if you can call it that.”

“So, he knows we know what he’s driving and that he has a hostage,” Rossi reasoned, and Piper hummed in agreement.

“He’ll alter his appearance,” Piper murmured. “Can’t go into a store so the easiest thing would be shaving and cutting hair. His MO will change.”

“Can you predict it?” Hotch asked and Piper gave her boss a smug look. “Forget I asked.” JJ came back in with a bundle of papers, all scripts from various stations covering the news, and a radio to keep up with the news broadcasts. While Piper worked silently with the odd cursing, murmuring and pacing, the others worked on trapping the unsub.

“Wait, how many news radio stations are there in Los Angeles?” Spencer asked and JJ felt proud to answer his question.

“About 20 of them,” she said, pointing to the scripts on the desk now scattered as Piper probed through each one.

“We can't just guess which one he listens to,” Hotch sighed.

“What about the emergency alert system?” JJ voiced. “It would be a way to communicate over all the stations simultaneously.”

“How do we do that?” Emily asked.

“I don't really know. How hard could it be to work out?” JJ shrugged before making her way past Derek to a phone. Derek sighed, moving out to the coffee machine while JJ fought a bureaucracy of officials. Rossi leaned against the doorframe watching JJ wrestle with the officials on the phone, demanding a transfer from superior to superior for access to the emergency alert system, while Emily moved over to Derek, placing a warm hand on his shoulder as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Kristin wanted me to tell you she's sorry she made you promise her brother. She said it wasn't fair. You want to tell me what she made you promise?” Derek swirled a spoon through the brown liquid, sighing.

“That I wouldn't let anything happen to Ellie.”

“Well, she's right,” Emily scoffed. “That's not fair.”

“How is anything we handle out here fair?” Derek countered, leaving Emily to go into Piper’s workroom where Adam sat, watching the doctor work.

“So, this is different to profiling?” Adam asked sullenly, still grieving the loss of his partner as Piper worked.

“Yep. Criminal profiling and psychology essentially focus on an equation of sorts. Psychology, which is sort of my thing, that’s all about having stimuli and external factors and using those to predict behaviour. That makes criminal profiling harder for me,” she explained to Adam who was perched on a table. “Profiling is taking the behaviour and using it to predict the stimuli and the factors.”

“Sorry, I’m still confused,” Adam said, and Piper nodded, biting a lip as she tried to figure out the best way to explain it.

“You ever been to the doctor to check up on your knee? He’ll tap your knee; you’ll jerk out your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, psychology is about predicting whether your leg will jerk out or whether you’ll just punch the doctor in the face. Profiling is predicting what caused your leg to jerk out.” Adam nodded finally, understanding as Derek finally piped up.

“What have you got?” Piper remained silent, organising the desk as she ignored Derek. “Please.” Piper softened as she turned to view him.

“You got it,” she smiled. “So, his MO changing depends on a few factors. He probably won’t dump the RV because its central to his identity. That being said, if there’s any more pressure on this guy, he may dump the RV for whatever he can grab.”

“I’ve got an alert out for stolen vehicles with a corresponding home invasion,” Adam interrupted, and Piper smirked.

“He’ll most likely change Ellie’s appearance, cut her hair short, change clothes et cetera. Now, that’s assuming he still wants to keep her. He probably does if he feels responsible for Spicer’s success.”

“He said she was special,” Derek recalled, and Piper nodded vigorously.

“Right now, he’s got his kid so he might start seeing himself as a mentor. There’s a few ways this could go,” Piper continued as Spencer and Hotch entered the room with Emily. “A, he tries to mould Ellie to be like him in an effort to justify his own behaviour. B, he incorporates Ellie into his MO by forcing her to watch.” Piper shuddered softly at the thought. “But the thing linking these together is this. He sees himself as a grandfather figure. He is now her guardian.”

“So how do we get this bastard?” Emily asked.

“If anything’s going to get under his skin, it’s two things. Ellie’s rebellion and his childhood memories,” Piper finished, tossing her marker on the table. “We need to empathise with him, reinforce the notion that his behaviour’s justified.”

“But other than that, his MO’s going to be the same,” Hotch reasoned.

“Yep, targeting families. He won’t bother waiting for the blackouts, maybe even speed up.”

Meanwhile, JJ turned to update Rossi on where she’d gotten. “Every time they put me on hold, I get one layer higher on homeland security. The E.A.S. is coordinated by the FCC, FEMA, and the National Weather Service. It's a bureaucratic pile of steaming—” But Rossi never got to hear what the EAS was. JJ had turned back to her call, turning on an acceptable tone of voice. Rossi turned to see the scuffle outside, catching sight of Adam pulling on his coat and Piper grabbing her jacket and helmet.

“A boy just woke up his neighbours,” Adam called out. “Said he escaped from the Prince of Darkness. He said they're still in his house right now.”

“They?” Rossi exclaimed.

“Ellie’s with him,” Piper yelled out as she threw Derek the keys to an SUV. The team filed out, leaving JJ to handle the bureaucracy. Piper pulled up to a house surrounded by angry neighbours armed to the teeth with guns, bats, torches and expletives. As the sun rose in the east, the unit breached the house, taking each room while Piper, Spencer and Derek took the RV left behind at the house. Derek slipped his cell into his pocket, updating them on Rossi’s news.

“The neighbours all banded together and came after him, but he was already in the car,” he scoffed.

“Ballsy neighbours,” Piper chuckled, glancing around the filthy RV.

“The first units all got here within 4 minutes of the call. Local watch commander locked down a 5-square-mile grid and there's an APB on the car. They probably never made it out of the area.” Piper nodded, glancing through kitchen cupboards.

“Well, that’s disgusting,” she grimaced.

“You’re telling me,” Spencer scoffed, nudging her over. They looked down at the carpeted floor to see hair on the floor.

“I swear to God, when I get my hands on this son of a—” Derek cursed, stopped abruptly by Spencer.

“That actually might be good. Why disguise somebody you're gonna kill?” Derek sighed, calming himself and Piper turned to the drawers.

“Here's how he stays awake all night,” Derek scoffed, holding up a cigarette and a bong.

“Look at this article on Spicer,” Piper said, handing over preserved papers.

“We already know he was obsessed with all the attention Spicer was getting,” Derek exhaled.

“Yeah, but look what's underlined 3 times,” Spencer said, brushing hair out of his eyes as he passed over the copy. "8-year-old Ellie, bright, happy child."

“What was it he said about the kid?” Piper reminded Derek.

"I don't normally take to kids, but this one's just special."

“What?” Spencer looked between them, confused.

“That's what he said back at the house. Ellie was his target all along, not Spicer.” Piper wrested a hand through her hair as Derek took the article with him to the house while Spencer read through the articles, summing up each one for Piper.

Meanwhile, JJ was still on the phone with bureaucrats. “Yes. Yes, I'm still here,” she scoffed into the phone. “Yep, I'm always gonna be here. Ok. My name is Jennifer—no. You know what? I'm not going to explain this entire thing again to another mid-level bureaucrat who can't give me a sufficient answer. Put someone on the damn phone who can authorize what I need.” She was aware of the anger in her tone and half-expected the man on the line to hang up on her, only for her line to get transferred to a high-level secretary. “Yes. I'm—” she started, ready to burst into a full explanation of everything, only to find she’d already been briefed. “Yes, ma'am. Uh, yes, madame secretary. I'm so sorry to bother you this early, but it's very— oh, you have. Fully briefed, great. Um—yeah, of course.” She rushed over to her notepad. “I'm writing down the number right now. Great. Thank you so much, madame secretary. Yeah, yeah, I will let you know how it goes. Great. Thank you.” She hung up first, starting to dial Hotch as fast as possible.

Meanwhile, Derek had brought the others up to speed and they’d narrowed down Piper’s brainstorm to a more concrete delusion the unsub must have as Hotch stayed on the phone with JJ. The grandfather theory was right, and the two doctors burst through the front door. “Hey, guys. The murders we found in Orange County in 1985, they might not have been his first.”

“We think he’s trying to perfect his version of a family. He sees himself as the man he wanted his father to be for Detective Spicer. With Spicer dead, he sees himself as Ellie’s grandfather.”

“Thing is, seems his father might be non-existent.”

“As in, he took off,” Piper clarified with a yawn. “His mom was a prostitute.”

“Nora Flynn,” Spencer supplied. “Penelope’s looking into the original case from ‘68.” Hotch updated JJ on the phone, letting her know some background details would be headed her way. Within ten minutes, Spencer’s cell buzzed again, and he answered the call, putting Penelope on speaker.

_“Okay. Let me preface this by saying that a 40-year-old murder in a suburb of Los Angeles is an absurdly impossible request. Having said that, yours truly happens to know that the Pollack Library at Cal State—”_

“Garcia,” Hotch reminded gently.

_“Yes, sir, sorry, uh... Anyway, this murder was quite the scandal.”_

“For Southern California in the sixties, that's saying something,” Adam scoffed.

_“Okay, I don't know who was talking right then, but... word. So, Nora Flynn was a prostitute and a drug addict living in a desert community just outside of Los Angeles. It appears bikers were her stock in trade, rough bikers, and one fateful day, she and her client were murdered by her 13-year-old son Billy. Shot to death. The customer, ironically named John, was able to tell the police before he died that Billy made him beg for his life and then shot him anyway. That's him. And he was convicted, but...”_

“He’s a juvenile,” Piper sighed, rubbing her face.

_“Yep. So, at 18, he was released in 1973, never heard from again.”_

“Yeah, didn’t last long,” Emily scoffed.

_“And he never released a statement as to why he killed them, although it does appear his childhood was horrific. I'm sending you a picture of him on the day he was released to your PDAs.”_

“Make sure you send the files to JJ,” Hotch reminded her.

_“Of course, my liege. Garcia bids you ad—”_

“Garcia wait a minute,” Derek called out and Spencer watched him take the phone and flit to a corner. Piper jumped up on the kitchen counter as the group waited for Derek to finish. “Hey,” Derek murmured into the cell.

_“Hey back.”_

“Baby girl, I’m sorry for taking your head off.”

_“Oh, darling, our love is a rock. No bad day can come between us.”_

“Word,” he chuckled.

 _“Come home safe. I'll leave a light on,”_ she laughed before hanging up. Derek chucked the cell to Reid who barely caught it as Hotch left to call JJ. He paced through the backyard, his communications liaison on the other end of the line.

“JJ, listen. The most important thing is that you build rapport with him.”

_“Uh, rapport. Okay.”_

“I'm asking you to do one of the hardest things that anybody in our position ever has to do. I need you to empathise with him. Sympathise. Don't judge the things he's done. Garcia's sending you a file on him and his childhood. Look it over. It'll help. If he hears that you care about him, that's how you're gonna get him to care about Ellie. He has to understand that he's putting her through the same pain he went through as a child.”

_“Uh, okay.”_

“But it has to be his decision because power is all-important to him.”

_“Power? Okay.”_

“You're gonna be fine. Just talk to him.”

_“All right.”_

“Go over the file and start when you're ready.”

_“Oh, wait. You're gonna be on the line, right?”_

“We'll be listening. Rossi and Bishop will be on the line if you need them, but you’ll be fine.” Hotch hung up reluctantly. JJ was putting up a brave front, but she was nervous. He’d done the job long enough know nerves could play into even the strongest of wills.

“How’s she doing?” He heard Piper’s voice from behind him, leaning against the back doorframe.

“She’s nervous,” he admitted.

“It’s her first time,” Piper reasoned.

“She’s gonna do great.” He tapped his foot on the grass. “I don’t know if I gave her the right pep talk.” A laugh bubbled out of Piper.

“Sorry,” she said, slapping a hand over her mouth, humour glinting in her eyes. “Just, uh, the last time you gave someone a pep talk, Spencer hid in a closet out of social anxiety.” Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“For the last time, I didn’t think Emily would actually throw a fork at him.” He met Piper’s gaze. “Would you call her?” Piper nodded with a smile.

“Everyone’s waiting inside. I’ll check up on her.” As Hotch made his way into the living room, Piper dialled JJ’s number.

“ _Hey_ ,” JJ’s voice quaked. “ _Any other instructions?_ ”

“Nothing, just checking up on you. How you feeling?”

_“I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing here, Piper. I’m not a hostage negotiator.”_

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be, Jayje. Listen, you are gonna be great. You know how I know that? Because you’re the one who manages to convince Henry to let you go to work every morning. You’re the one who rips Emily off of Derek when he manages to get under her skin and you’re the one who calms Rossi down every time Spencer corrects him. There’s nothing fancy, no trigger words. All you gotta do is connect with him.”

_“So, you’re telling me, there’s no preparation for this?”_

“Nope,” Piper said cheerfully, not knowing what she’d done.

 _“Thanks, I feel so much better,”_ JJ replied sardonically.

“I meant you need to trust your gut. Listen to your intuition. It’ll help.” She heard her friend inhale deeply.

_“Okay. I’ve got this.”_

“Yes, you do. Break a leg,” Piper said, beaming as she slipped the cell into her pocket, catching sight of Spencer gazing at her tenderly. “What’s up?” Spencer shook his head, accidentally tossing his brown locks in his eyes. Piper leapt up the steps of the porch, glancing over his shoulder at the team surrounding the radio. She slowly swept strands of Spencer’s hair away.

“I need to kiss you,” he murmured, and Piper’s eyes widened as she glanced around quickly to check they were alone.

“You can’t kiss me right now, we’re on the job.”

“Yeah, but there’s a serial killer out there and these are special circumstances.”

“We have to listen to JJ’s radio broadcast.”

“Everyone’s busy doing the same thing. Forget the broadcast. I need to kiss you.” Piper sighed, her resolve melting as she glanced around to check the uniformed officers weren’t around, then into the house to check no-one was looking their way before pulling the tall doctor down for a quick peck on the lips. “Th- That’s not a kiss,” Spencer protested as Piper pulled away, keeping her eyes on the federal agents inside. “That doesn’t count, that’s like a fourth of a kiss,” he exclaimed quietly.

“Well, you’ll get the other fraction when we catch this guy,” Piper smiled, struggling to get her blush under control as she flounced past him. Spencer sighed, reluctantly heading back inside to catch the start of JJ’s broadcast.

_“Billy? Billy Flynn? Mr. Flynn, I—I don't know for sure that you can hear me, but-- my name is Jennifer Jareau. I—I work for the FBI as a communications liaison for the—the behavioural, uh... Ok. Mr. Flynn, I-- I--I want to talk to you about letting Ellie Spicer go. I mean, I want to ask you to. Uh, see, I'm not a hostage negotiator, uh, I've never done anything like this at all ever, but, um, sometimes circumstances, it's...”_

The agents looked at each other nervously. Emily’s heart went out for JJ and Derek’s stress levels were sky rocketing. Piper clutched Spencer’s hand nervously while Rossi was the picture of calm.

_“Look... You can tell I'm not a hostage negotiator. But I am a mother. And I... I know what your mother did to you when you were little. What she was, what she made you watch, what she let men do to you, and it makes me so... It's just not fair. And no one— no one can make that better. I wish I could. I do. But... If I—if I could somehow go back there and, you know, make what was happening to you stop, if I could just... You know, pick you up and just tell you that it'll all be ok. That's what moms are supposed to do. They're not supposed to be the cause of your pain, they're supposed to make it go away. They're supposed to hold you and tell you everything is gonna be all right. They're supposed to tell you that thunder is angels bowling and that it's ok to be afraid of the dark and that it's not silly to think there might be monsters in your closet and that it's ok that if you want to climb in bed with them just this once, 'cause it's scary in the room all alone. They're supposed to say it's ok to be afraid, and not be the thing you're afraid of. But most importantly, they're supposed to love you no matter what. What happened to you isn't fair, it's not right, but, um... I'm supposed to empathize with you. Sympathize. Understand. But I can't. That--that would be a lie.”_

Hotch started panicking, though his face didn’t reveal it, as JJ started going off script, but Piper’s grip started to relax, and Spencer wanted to flex his fingers which had gone numb. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers, listening intently to JJ’s speech.

_“The truth is, I don't understand what you've done. I don't sympathize with you killing people all these years. And I especially don't understand you taking Ellie. What I can do is tell you what a mother should tell you, that you can't take away your pain by hurting someone else. That it doesn't make all the nights you went to bed scared and alone any better if you scare someone else the way you're scaring Ellie. What happened to you, it isn't fair. But what you're doing to her isn't fair either and if anyone should understand what that feels like, it's you. You have the power. You can do what you want to do. But for once, you can choose to use that power to do for Ellie what should have been done for you. You can choose letting her go. You can choose teaching her that, yes, there are monsters, and it's ok to be afraid of them. But it's not ok to let them win. And it's not ok to be one.”_

It was over. JJ was done. The federal agents sat in the tumultuous storm JJ’s words had taken them through, the quiet broken by a single ringtone. Emily’s ringtone. Piper’s heart started beating faster as Emily moved away from the group, listening to the update from her cell, before sighing and slipping it into her pocket. She turned to Derek beside her. “Kristin’s doctor. Both her lungs collapsed, she died a few minutes ago,” Emily said mournfully, and Spencer watched his best friend’s face collapse as Ellie’s fate dawned on him.

“Ellie’s got no-one now.” The realisation was followed by another call and Derek dreaded the news of another dead body. It was Adam’s cell this time, and his update was a swift one.

“He let her go.” Piper felt as though she could finally breathe, and Derek’s body burst into action. Hotch updated JJ while Adam led Derek and the others to two SUVs. The unit pulled up to the house where Billy Flynn was holed up while a team of officers secured Ellie in another car. They emerged in matching vests and earwigs as an officer held up a cell phone for Adam. The detective introduced himself quickly only to hand the cell over to Morgan, telling him Billy would only speak to him. Hotch watched Morgan raise the cell to his ear, then hand it back to Adam.

“He wants me in there,” Derek reported matter-of-factly and instantly, Hotch became hesitant.

“Morgan—” Hotch called out after his agent.

“I know this guy, Hotch. He didn't kill me before, he's not gonna kill me this time.”

“No—”

“I believe in my original profile. He will not hurt me unless I show him fear. Listen— when you needed us, we were there for you. This one is mine.” Hotch looked back at Rossi on the other side of the police barricade, catching his gaze, then his subtle nod.

“You sure?” Hotch asked again.

“As I've ever been,” Derek assured him, and the unit chief watched his best agent walk away and into the house. He pushed the door open, moving into the unlit house. Alone, Derek probed through the house, room by room, careful not to make the same mistake as last time. He took the main bedroom, gun held up to fire. Instead, he found Billy sitting on the end of a mattress, a couple duct taped and gagged at the foot of the bed. He kept his gun raised as Billy sat in the shadows. “It’s over, Flynn.”

“5 years ago, I would have just killed you right there in that bedroom.”

“You couldn't,” Derek admitted.

“Couldn't?” Derek let his arms drop to his side, standing with an air of invulnerability to the mass murderer.

“I'm not afraid of you,” he confessed.

“You really think that matters that much to me?” Flynn asked.

“Then shoot me. Go ahead. Shoot me,” he challenged him. “You can't do it. I study guys like you for a living. I know more about you than you know about yourself.” Flynn licked his lips.

“Well, you may not be afraid, but they are,” Billy pointed out.

“You point that gun at them, and I will kill you, and that is another promise.”

“My mother used to dance with me,” Flynn said, ignoring Derek’s promise and the agent glimpsed the briefest shedding of a tear sliding down the man’s face. “You know who Cyd Charisse was? She kind of looked like her.”

“Put the gun down and get up,” Derek demanded.

“When I shot her... She looked at me with such... She was... I think relieved. I think I helped her escape. Was that really true, or did I just imagine it, to make killing her easier to live with? Did I help her escape? Did I... Set her free?” Derek’s face was unreadable for a moment until it warped into thinly veiled disgust.

“Is that what you think you've been doing all these years, helping people?”

“Well, no, I suppose not. Do you believe in heaven?” Flynn asked him and Derek raised his gun again.

“This is your last chance,” he warned.

“You think I might see her there? Maybe get a second chance?” Billy rose from his perch on the bed, meeting Derek at eye level. “I'd really like that,” the man confessed. Derek stared at him, unflinching, unmoving, his eyes raking over every movement until he saw him start to raise his gun.

Behind the barricade, the unit waited with bated breath until they heard the sound of 9 consecutive gunshots. The team of officers and agents burst into action as Reid, Prentiss and Bishop surged into the house, guns armed only to find Derek walking out, his head low. Hotch and Rossi stood at ease as Derek made his way towards them, Adam bringing out Ellie from behind a police car. The young girl had short-cropped hair, clutching a shock blanket in the heat. Derek pulled off his vest as JJ exited her vehicle, surveying the scene. Adam led Ellie to Derek before leaving them to shake hands with JJ and make his way into the house. Rossi smiled in the heat as the young girl wrapped her arms around Derek who pressed a kiss to the top of Ellie’s hair.

Meanwhile, Piper sidled past Emily to start cutting through the hostages’ bonds. While she started slitting the duct tape and peeling off the silver material off the woman’s face, Emily started on the other man as Spencer examined Billy Flynn. The couple limped away with the officers and Emily followed while Piper stared at the unsub being taken away by the officers. Spencer slipped his hand in hers, shaking her from her stupor and Piper flashed him a small smile.

On the jet, Derek was seated beside Emily, headphones lingering around his neck. Emily was busy playing a game of poker with JJ while Hotch was talking with Rossi. Piper was stretched on the couch, settling her head on Spencer’s thigh. While he perused a book on modern quantum physics, Piper had her nose buried in a book on ancient Chinese scriptures. “So, what happens to Ellie?” Derek asked the team softly.

“Social Services will take over, place her in a foster home,” JJ answered while keeping a trained gaze on Emily.

“And she’ll be okay?” he asked, but no one quite knew how to answer. David shared a look with Aaron, both silent. Spencer had gone stiff, his eyes flitting over his page slower than usual. Piper bit her lip, trying to dig herself deeper into her book while JJ shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

“She’s a strong kid,” Emily started answering uneasily. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” But Derek’s expression was still anxious, but he nodded all the same. His promise to Matt lingered in his mind and he made another mental vow, that he would do his absolute best to protect Ellie, and when the time came, she would always know, someone was out there, looking out for her as best he could.


End file.
